Ashen Sanctuary

I keep a match beneath my tongue Not to burn,

but to remember (ooh)

The ceiling holds its rain in plaster A patient weight above my

bed I learned to name the ache in fractions Small enough to

leave unsaid My hands arrange the morning china Like proof that I

survived the night But every cup becomes a witness To what I

would not dignify

There is a door inside the damage It opens only when I

stand

I do not ask the dark for mercy I take the weather

in my hands (ahhhh)

I am not the ruin

I am what remains

A blade under velvet

A roof in the rain Let the tower lean harder Let the

iron complain

I rise with the fracture Still carrying my name (ohhh)

I wore the silence like a costume Pinned at the throat with

borrowed grace A room can learn to praise a captive If she

keeps smoothing out her face Now every locked drawer knows my knuckles

Now every mirror loses ground I plant my breath beneath the floorboards

And feel the house become a sound

If grief is a cathedral

I have counted every stair

But the altar is not empty

I left my old fear there (ahhhh)

I am not the ruin

I am what remains

A blade under velvet

A roof in the rain Let the tower lean harder Let the

iron complain

I rise with the fracture Still carrying my name Not spared,

not stainless But awake in the flame (yeah)

Strip the gold from the ceiling

Leave the beams and the bone

I was never the portrait

I was always the stone (hummmm)

I am what remains Still carrying my name (ooh)